


Shots

by coolumbidae



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Aged-Up Number Five | The Boy, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Drinking to Cope, M/M, Sexual Content, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:22:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29910684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolumbidae/pseuds/coolumbidae
Summary: “What’s my problem?” Diego asks, his tone incredulous. “You’re the dumbass walking around this part of town at three AM, who I just saved from getting shot. How drunk are you?”The man looks away and waves him off. “Irrelevant. Was fine.”--In which Diego happens to meet a shit faced prick by the name of Five.
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy/Diego Hargreeves
Comments: 14
Kudos: 34





	Shots

The transition of summer into autumn is Diego’s favorite time of year.

He walks comfortably beneath the dim orange streetlights, enjoying the languidly warm breeze that sends the fabric of his shirt rolling across his skin. It’s been quiet tonight, something that he reflects is objectively a good thing, though subjectively it leaves him twiddling his thumbs and restless. Whereas last night he stopped two petty robberies and an altercation that was likely leading up to a sexual assault, tonight all Diego has done is interrupt two consenting raccoons in a rather amorous position. They had turned and looked at him, seemingly disgruntled, and continued on with their activities.

Well, at least someone is having a good night, he supposes.

Diego pauses to lean against a nearby building, pulling out his phone and squinting at the jarringly bright screen. It’s nearly three in the morning. His notifications are dead and a quick flick through the local police department’s Twitter feed reveals nothing of interest going on. He sighs and tilts his head back to rest on the brick behind him. 

Diego could go back to his apartment. He might be able to fall asleep if he tries hard enough, which would likely be a sensible decision seeing as he has to be at work in about five and a half hours from now. He opens up the police feed one more time just to make sure he isn’t missing anything and comes up empty.

Home it is then. If he gets back soon enough, he’ll have enough time to shower and possibly be able to squeeze in at least four hours of sleep. Diego pockets his cell and goes through the distracted motions of cracking his knuckles. He instinctively moves on to rolling his neck, but the sound of raised voices nearby pulls Diego from his thoughts. He grabs a knife from the holster at his thigh and inches around the side of the building to peer down the alleyway.

There are two figures in the alley, one burly and the other petite. The larger of the two has their back to Diego and their arm extended out, the silhouette of a small gun clutched in their hand. The person held at gunpoint is a man in his late twenties, dark hair, pale skin. His movements are sloppy, his voice slurred from what Diego can hear, and Diego rolls his eyes.

“Great,” he mutters to himself. Some drunk dipshit. Diego pulls out his phone, sends a quick text, and slips it back into his pocket. He then quickly decides the knife is unnecessary and reholsters it.

Creeping around the corner of the building, Diego stalks closer until the voices become clear and he can seek coverage behind a nearby dumpster. He takes a grounding breath and moves to start quietly approaching the assailant from behind.

“... you gonna kill me? .. you ever kill someone before?” There’s a hiccup and then a small burp from the smaller man. “S’messy.”

“I don’t gotta kill you but if you don’t shut the fuck up and give me your wallet and watch in the next five seconds, I’m gonna blow your fucking brains out. Five…”

“What?”

“Four.”

“Christ, you’re really gonna drag this out?”

“ _Three_ , asshole.” 

“Let me guess... two?”

“You _want_ to die?”

Diego steps out from the shadows and into the orange glow of the alleyway light. He already has a finger to his lips and he makes very brief eye contact with the man held at gunpoint. The man blinks and then squints at him, leaning forward as if he can’t tell if what he’s seeing is real. 

“Hey,” the man says, tilting his head to get a better look around the mugger. 

“What? Hey what-.”

The mugger turns around and Diego’s heel cuts out an arc, smashing into the man’s wrist and knocking the firearm from his grip. The gun hits the asphalt with a smack. Diego dodges an easily anticipated right hook and darts around the side of the attacker and behind him. He throws his weight forward and hooks his elbow around the man’s throat, catching him in a sleeper choke hold.

There’s a scuffle. The man grasps at Diego’s arm, digs his nails into his skin, and backpedals them both hard into a wall. Diego grunts with the force of the impact and _fuck_ , his back is definitely going to be sore later. He keeps his hold firm until the man’s attempts to dislodge him become weak, and once he’s limp Diego guides him to the ground. Diego makes sure to ease the man’s head down before righting himself.

“... the hell is your problem?” 

Diego jerks around to find the smaller man very close to him. Now that he’s not shrouded in the shadow of the alley, Diego can make out his face better. He’s got a wide jaw, straight nose, and scowl on his face that could cut through ice. He stands a few inches shorter than Diego and his breath reeks of alcohol. His hair looks like it may have been sculpted nicely to the side at one point, though now it sits in a state of disarray, large chunks of it glued together with product. He’s dressed in form fitting business pants, a tucked in button down that’s a few buttons loose at the neck, and has black dress loafers on.

He looks like a real prick.

“What’s my problem?” Diego asks, his tone incredulous. “You’re the dumbass walking around this part of town at three AM, who _I_ just saved from getting shot. How drunk are you?”

The man looks away and waves him off. “Irrelevant. Was fine.” He’s curiously coherent for how slurred his words are. 

“You were fine? That guy had a gun.”

“He wasn’t gonna shoot me. Would’ve done it already if he meant it.”

Diego chews on the inside of his cheek - the man is right, he realizes. Distantly, he hears the wailing of sirens approaching. That was fast. He grabs the stranger by his upper arm and starts walking towards the opposite end of the alley. The man stumbles alongside him. 

“Get _off_ \- what are you - I can take care of myself,” the man grouches, tripping over his own feet at one point and nearly falling without Diego's support. 

“Yeah, sure, come on,” Diego sighs. They exit the alleyway and Diego guides them down towards South Cherry Street. There’s a 24 hour convenience store a few blocks over on a safer street that they can stop at.

“Let go of me,” the man grumbles, wrenching his arm from Diego’s grip. “Where are we going?”

Diego looks over his shoulder to make sure he’s still being followed and rubs at his temple with a quiet sigh. “Where do you live?” 

“What’sit to you?”

“I need to make sure you get home and don’t wind up dead in a dumpster. Again, where do you live?”

“S’by the library.”

Diego freezes. “The library?” That’s at least a fifteen minute car ride on the opposite edge of the city, and Diego doesn’t even want to consider how long that would take on foot. Especially with someone who can barely walk three steps unassisted. 

The man comes to a halt. “Yup.” His eyes narrow and he scrutinizes Diego, his body swaying unsteadily when he does so. “What’s your deal anyway, you suppose to be Batman?”

Diego moves behind the man and puts a hand on his back, prompting him to start moving again. “What’s _your_ deal? You got a routine of getting hammered and walking around looking for fights with dudes twice your size?”

“No. Tonight was-,” there’s a hiccup and a small groan, “-an outlier.”

“I swear, if you’re gonna puke…” 

“M’not gonna puke, idiot.”

“It’s Diego.”

“Huh?”

“My name. It’s Diego. And yours?”

The man hums to himself for a moment, as if he has to remember the answer. “S’Five.” 

Diego’s face scrunches up and he looks sideways at him. “... Five?” he repeats, skeptical. “Your name is _Five_?”

“Yup.”

There’s a pause.

“You're named after a number.”

Five scoffs and his voice is dripping with sarcasm and alcohol when he responds, “Great detective work, Sherlock.”

Five (that definitely _cannot_ be a real name) doesn’t seem very keen on elaborating, and Diego doesn’t care enough to press further, so he lets it drop. He’d be fine with silence, but Five is insistent on being a pain in the ass in every possible way.

“So’s this your shtick?” he asks. 

Diego’s lips press into a line. “What?”

“This,” Five gestures vaguely to Diego, hovering on his knife holsters, “vigilante bullshit.”

“It’s not bullshit,” Diego bristles. “I’m helping people.”

“People who didn’t - _hic_ \- ask for help.”

“Are you seriously saying people would rather get murdered or robbed?”

Five shrugs. “S’basic Darwinism. And you’re taking the old monkeywrench to that with your ego.” 

“So next time I should just leave you to get mugged and killed?”

“It’s my prerogative.” 

Diego shakes his head in disbelief, giving the back of Five’s head a hard look. “Seems like you’ve got some shit you need to unpack man.”

“You’ve no idea,” Five responds without missing a beat. He stops walking and Diego nearly plows right into him from the abruptness of it. Diego's scowl goes unnoticed.

“You fail out of the police academy or something?” Five presses, cutting off Diego’s prepared response.

Diego’s brow furrows, unnerved by the almost pinpoint accuracy of Five’s claim. “You don’t get to ask questions about me. Keep walking.” 

Five smirks and ignores Diego’s command. “That’s a yes.”

“Look, you don’t know _shit_ about me.”

“Explains a lot.” 

Diego’s nostrils flare. “And what does that mean?”

“You fight like you know what you’re doing. You’re wearing that…” Five’s stare drops down to Diego’s thighs and he snorts. “... ridiculous knife rig, and you stalk around at night looking for petty crimes to stop.”

Diego’s chest rises with a slow inhale and _Jesus_ \- who the fuck considers homicide a petty crime? He has to stop himself from addressing that. Instead, he physically turns Five to face forward again and nudges him. “We’re going to keep walking. Feel free to stop talking while we’re at it.”

Five doesn’t stop talking, of course. There’s continued drunk rambling and Diego tunes most of it out during their gruelingly long walk, offering hums of acknowledgement and ‘yeahs’ when appropriate. More than once Five tries to come to a stop and Diego has to physically encourage him to keep going. The glow of the convenience store sign eventually comes up on them and Diego pauses there.

“You got your phone on you?” he asks, steadying Five by his shoulders before he can faceplant by the not at all abrupt stop. 

Five slaps his palms against his pockets on the front and back of his pants. “Nope.”

Diego makes an active effort to keep his face neutral. “Okay.” He swipes his own phone out and pulls open the Uber app, glancing at Five over the edge of his phone as he does so. “Where is it you live exactly?” 

Five narrows his eyes at him. “S’’you can stalk me?”

“So I can order a ride and get you home,” Diego explains slowly, uncertain of how he really has the patience for this. 

“Can get home by myself.”

“I - that’s-.” Diego shakes his head, stumbling over his own words in disbelief. What is actually wrong with this man? He sucks in a stabilizing breath. “Alright, no. Nope. You ain’t doing that shit. I’m ordering you a ride. You’re going to get in it and you’re gonna go home and if I see you around here again, I’m letting your ass get shot.”

Five rolls his eyes. “M’sure, not with that hero complex.”

Diego ignores him. “Address. I can stand here all night.” He really doesn’t want to. 

Five glowers, though it doesn’t come off strongly with how much he’s swaying side to side and how unkempt he looks. Diego doesn’t back down, instead quirking an eyebrow up expectantly the longer the silence stretches between them. 

Eventually, Five huffs and crosses his arms. “46 Park Avenue.”

Park Avenue? Christ, that is a _really_ nice area. Diego punches the address into the app. It takes a few seconds for a driver to connect and accept the ride. 

“ETA seven minutes,” he states. He turns to the convenience store and nudges Five forward through the entrance. He sure as shit isn’t leaving him alone to walk off by himself again. “I need something to drink.”

The shop is empty save for Rahul sitting behind a wall of safety glass at the register. He gives Diego an acknowledging nod of the head, looks at Five, and turns his attention back to his TV. Diego stalks back to the cooler doors and assesses his options. 

“Booze is up front,” Five states, following him.

“Yeah, I think you’ve had enough of that.”

Five makes a sound of annoyance. He hovers by a nearby rack of processed pre-packaged cupcakes and brownies, and Diego lets him browse while he grabs two waters from the cooler. 

“Here.” Diego pushes one of the bottles into Five’s hands. “Best start drinking this. You’re gonna be hurtin’ later.” 

Five scoffs. “I’ve been drunker much before.”

A small, amused smile pulls at Diego’s lips and he starts back towards the front of the shop. “Right. Let’s go.”

Diego exchanges a few pleasantries with Rahul and pays with some singles from his pocket. He glances at his phone while he and Five exit the shop and sees the Uber is two minutes away. Good. He cracks open his water and brings the bottle to his lips, all while Five's eyes burn a hole into him the entire time. 

“Gimme your phone,” Five finally says when he's recapping the bottle, drawing a distrustful look from Diego. 

“Why?” he asks wearily. 

“M’giving you my number.”

There is a very long pause while Diego pieces together what Five is asking for and he gives a short laugh when the realization dawns on him. He looks at Five amusedly and folds his arms over his chest. 

“What makes you think I’m into guys?” he asks.

Five blinks. He responds only by giving Diego a slow and appraising look up and down in a way that makes Diego suddenly feel very exposed. 

How the hell is this guy so observant while _this_ shit faced?

“I can go either way,” Diego says, almost defensively. 

“Obviously - _hic_ \- David.”

“It’s _Diego,_ asshole.”

“Don’t care.” Five holds his hand out. “Phone.”

Diego takes a closer look at Five. Underneath his overall disheveled appearance, he actually is a pretty good looking guy and would clean up well if given the opportunity. Diego takes a moment to consider it and quickly decides that bearing Five's prickly personality is worth ending his own two month dry spell. He shrugs and says, "Why the hell not.” He digs his phone from his pocket, unlocks it, and pulls up the new contact screen. He hands it to Five who has to squint at the screen and re-enter his number a few times before he gets it right and hands it back. With almost perfect timing, a slow approaching black Nissan pulls up to the curb beside them. A quick glance at his phone confirms the plate number. 

Diego asks, “Travis?” through the cracked passenger’s window and the driver nods. Diego pulls open a door to the back seat and gestures at it to Five with a bob of his head. “Get in.”

Five rolls his eyes but clambers into the back seat, and the driver looks wearily at him through their rear mirror. Diego leans in the frame of the door once Five is settled and peers in. 

“Try not to be too much of a dick to Travis, alright?” He glances at the driver and gives him an apologetic smile. “Sorry man. I don’t know him, just doing a stranger a favor.” 

Five gives Diego a withering glare. He grabs the handle of the door to pull it shut, but Diego holds it open in place. “Alright, y’can go now,” Five gripes loudly. “Bye bye.”

“Yeah yeah, you’re welcome,” Diego says, throwing the door shut. Five tears his gaze from Diego’s and keeps his eyes forward as the car pulls away from the curb. Diego watches it drive away until it makes a left and disappears. 

“Christ, what a hell of night,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair and beginning his walk home. He periodically checks his phone on the way and by the time he makes it to the stoop of his building, the Uber has already long since dropped Five off. Diego clicks through the prompts to review the driver and leaves a generous custom tip. 

He climbs up the uneven stairs to the third floor, fumbling to get his keys out on the way up. There’s a soft sound on the other side of the door when the key slides into the deadbolt and Diego grins. He pushes the door open and is immediately greeted by a meow.

“Hey baby girl,” he says, closing the door behind him. He flicks the lights on and kneels down to the lanky black cat that eagerly throws her face into Diego’s hand, purring furiously as he scratches the underside of her jaw. 

“Yeah, I missed you too.” The cat opens her bright green eyes slowly to him only to shut them again when he switches his hand to the opposite side of her face. Diego snorts quietly and sighs.

“You’re never going to believe the night I just had.”


End file.
